


Sangue e Vendetta

by MiracoloDiGigi, pirlohno



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Character Turned Into Vampire, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Multi, Smut, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Sex, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 13:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11163195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiracoloDiGigi/pseuds/MiracoloDiGigi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirlohno/pseuds/pirlohno
Summary: Andrea Pirlo, the strongest, most skilled vampire slayer in the country — maybe even the world — sets out to single-handedly take down the strongest vampire clan in Italy, led by none other than Gianluigi Buffon, himself.





	1. The Clan

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, just as a side note, the title means "Blood and Revenge."

— 18th Century Italy —

Eastern Europeans were the first to begin the discussion. They called them Vampirs, mostly. Creatures who rose from the dead, murdered innocent people, and drank their blood. But, the news traveled through the rest of Europe quickly, and sent the mass-hysteria concerning the undead well on its way. Everyone had a name for them and their own spin on the story, but one thing was for certain. Everybody feared them. Townspeople insisted it was the work of the devil, and that these undead had been worshipping Satan all along. Even in Italy, it was as prominent as ever. Here, they were called vampiri. Romans had tales of demonic entities and blood-drinking spirits. Tuscans had legends of covens composed of ancient beings who practised dark magicks in search of blood. But, Turin? Turin was where all the lively ones were. So far north near the Alps, the city seemed to go unnoticed by all but it's inhabitants, who were well aware of what was going on. Turin became the sort of hideout early on, where many of the creatures in the country would travel to, to hide out in the mountains. Some stayed in the bigger cities — Rome, Milan, Naples — but Turin was something different. It quickly became more than just a hideout for the undead who feared for their lives. They formed a clan. There weren't many of them, maybe thirty to forty of them, but it was larger than what most would anticipate. 

And their leader? None other than the infamous Gianluigi Buffon. Or Gigi, to his companions. 

Gigi was the charismatic leader every group longed to have. He was brave, and even a bit cocky, but who could blame him, considering who he was? His story was unique. Many of the creatures in Turin were relatively young, but not Gigi. No, Gigi had been likely one of the first victims in the country, turned nearly one hundred years prior, before the discussion of vampires had even began in Italy, let alone the rest of the world. He was older and wiser than everyone around here, so every creature in Turin had a great deal of respect for him, and nobody dared to anger him. The circumstances surrounding how he had turned, however, were still a mystery — he told different stories depending on how he was feeling, but they never failed to entertain. That was his personality; he was all for screwing around and building himself up. After one hundred years of life, it was one of the few ways he could entertain himself when things got boring. Aside from killing, of course. Another one of his favourite habits, along with sleeping around — and he did manage that, considering this group of undead didn't discriminate based on gender… likely because Gigi enjoyed sleeping with the women, and even the men who were interested. But, nobody complained. Instead, they enjoyed what they had to offer. During the day, the group would take refuge in what was an old, abandoned hotel located in a more remote area of the city. They'd lock themselves up in whichever rooms they'd claimed — sometimes with a roommate, whether human or not — and they'd sleep or fuck the day away. At night, they'd all reemerge and head down to the “lobby” for some drinks and cigarettes or cigars. How they always had such a large surplus, nobody knew, but why ask questions? They were so focused on partying that they didn't care. It was the one way to keep life interesting and fun when you were constantly on a hitlist. There had been townspeople after them, self proclaimed cacciatori di vampiri, — vampire hunters — and even other clans after them constantly, so when they were met with a quiet night, partying was the only thing in mind. 

Behind Gigi, there was a main group of ten other men, and about ten more beyond them as well. Anyone else part of the clan was usually someone who one of the main group of ten — and Gigi made eleven — had turned. There was a mutual respect and fear of the main group, and anyone turned by them had very little to no freedom or say in what the clan did, but it was never much of a problem. It wasn't often that the group did anything that wasn't in the best interest of the rest of the clan. It was the opposite, in fact. Despite being monsters, as the humans liked to call them, these men had hearts. They valued family. And this clan was family. They didn't turn just anybody. Sure, they slept around with humans, but they were very critical of who was turned and who was killed, and once you were turned, you were part of the family. There was no way around it. 

As of late, the clan was up to their usual shenanigans. Nothing really other than smoking, drinking, fucking, and the occasional walk about the town to cause trouble so the townspeople knew they were still around and they still ran the town. Gigi was usually one of the members who ventured about the town, but oftentimes he'd go alone rather than with the others. Either he was a Lone Wolf or a social butterfly, and there was no in between. 

Tonight, however, Gigi had chosen to stay back. At first, he was just drinking and smoking a cigar by the bar, watching over his clan with a protective sort of gaze. He didn't intend on doing much more than that. But, that quickly changed when one of the men he'd turned approached him with an expression that immediately revealed what he wanted. The man had black hair and blue eyes, which was captivating enough for Gigi as it was, but his beauty didn't stop there, either. In fact, it actually distracted Gigi for a moment. His gaze slowly wandered from those beautiful blue eyes, over the stubble along his strong jawline, then down to the way his shirt hugged every curve of his sculpted chest. His name was Francesco, and, ever since Gigi had laid eyes on him, this man had been his weakness. He had turned him as the final way of claiming him as his own but their relationship was anything but exclusive. And he knew the look he currently had in his eyes. That look could get him to do anything, and had already gotten him to beg and plead to be fucked like a little slut. However, he had a reputation to uphold out here, in front of all the other clan members, so Gigi took it upon himself to make the first move. He grabbed Francesco by the hair at the base of his skull and pulled him in for a rough, but eager kiss, saying he was up for exactly what they both had in mind but without so many words. 

The kiss soon became frantic as they stumbled up into Gigi's bedroom — probably the largest, fanciest room in the hotel, of course — and as soon as the door was closed, they were ridding each other of their clothes. It was frantic and eager, and, frankly, Gigi was fairly certain Francesco had practically shredded his shirt after getting frustrated with the buttons, but he wasn't actually certain. Francesco's lips were far too distracting. It wasn't long before Francesco was shoving Gigi against the wall opposite the door. He had other intentions rather than this rough kiss, however, and after a moment, he broke away, turning Gigi around and shoving him into the wall again, this time with his back to him. Holding him there, he was quick to bind his wrists behind his back using the belt one of them had just taken off. 

“Get down on your knees.” Francesco demanded, but he didn't even wait for Gigi to do so.

Instead, he just grabbed hold of him and shoved him down to the ground with a thud. Only then did he allow Gigi a moment to get on his knees. He grabbed a fistful of the elder Italian's hair, and roughly guided his head toward his cock, making it clear what he wanted. And who was Gigi to deny Francesco? He didn't give blowjobs very often, but he he definitely wasn't against trying. Only, this wasn't the typical blowjob. Francesco wouldn't let him get off that easily. Gigi began by taking the head of his cock into his mouth first, starting off slow, but Francesco wasn't in the mood for slow. Maintaining the tight hold on Gigi's hair, he forced the elder Italian's head forward abruptly until he could feel his nose against his abdomen, forcing him to take his cock in all at once. The action made Gigi gag and gasp on instinct. He tried to pull his head back, but Francesco held it firm, leaving him no choice. He technically didn't need air as it was, but the gagging certainly wasn't pleasant, so he tried his best to suppress his gag reflex, ultimately failing though, and instead squirming against his restraints. 

His struggling only made Francesco grin. “Suck.” He demanded simply, and made it clear that he didn't have an option. 

Gigi didn't hesitate to do as he was told, either, and thankfully after a moment or so, Francesco withdrew, giving him only a second to regain his bearings, before thrusting forward. Each time he would thrust forward, his cock would hit the back of Gigi's throat and cause him to gag a bit, but he was a good pet and didn't dare complain. Instead, he continued deepthroating Francesco, pleasuring him to the best of his abilities until the younger vampiro abruptly released in his mouth, giving him absolutely no warning. 

Practically simultaneously, the bedroom door swung open without so much as a knock, with Giorgio Chiellini — or Chiello, to the others — standing just beyond the threshold.

“I need to talk to you. Now. Alone.”

Even then, Gigi didn't stop what he was doing. Gigi had gagged a bit when the other man released, so some of the l come had spilled out of his mouth and coated his chin and bare chest, creating a mess of the sticky substance, but Gigi paid no mind. Instead, he swallowed the come that was in his mouth. Immediately after doing so, he eagerly leaned in again to lap up the remnants on Francesco's cock. 

“He's a bit busy right now.” Francesco chimed in, pushing Gigi's head forward again so that he really couldn't speak. Gigi gave a soft little moan at the action, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Maybe deal with whatever it is on your own, hm? He's not interested.” 

Chiello clearly wasn't impressed, though. He just folded his arms over his chest and didn't budge. This wasn't the first time he had walked in on Gigi in the middle of it, let alone with Francesco. He wasn't at all phased by what be was seeing. It was actually amusing to see their leader on his knees like this, but he was a good friend — brother, even — and he didn't dare mock him for it, or out him to the rest of the clan. There was no way he'd be taken seriously if everyone knew he was Francesco's little slut, and even worse, his bottom bitch. 

“Oh, really? He's not interested in hearing about the new hunter in town? Does Andrea Pirlo ring a bell?”

The name made Gigi freeze. It was, frankly, a name he never thought he would hear of in this city. He had only heard stories of the man — he was known as the greatest hunter in the country. Likely in the world, as far as he was concerned. He had yet to come across a beast he couldn't kill — some of the most infamous vampiri out there had been taken care of by him. And he could not have him killing any of his clan.

Despite Francesco's hand loosely holding him in place, Gigi abruptly pulled away in one swift movement, clearly realizing the severity of the situation, now. He still had come on his chin very visibly, and he took a brief second to lick it away as he got to his feet, redirecting his attention toward his second in command. Just like that, his fun was over. There was no time to fuck around — literally — when the Andrea Pirlo would be in town — or was already in town, for all he knew. He needed to look out for his clan, rather than being hedonistic and putting his own pleasure first. 

“Gather the boys in the lounge downstairs. I'll be down in a minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut does have a purpose that will be explained and further explored later on!
> 
> Also, Josh and I (I'll add him as co-creator when he makes an account) came up with this story idea together. I (Zak) wrote this chapter, and the next chapter will be written by Josh, and so on. Enjoy!


	2. The Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A local seeks out Andrea Pirlo, the infamous Vampire Hunter, for assistance.

It was in all of the newspapers; “Demons erupt in Italy!” At first it was taken lightly, people went about their lives, and all was fine. Until the epidemic grew worse. Many important people went missing, people were taken from their families, the streets were dying from the lack of activity. 

After monitoring these beasts of destruction there was a curfew placed. It was an act to try and avoid more missing people and to ensure fewer deaths. Rumors and stories started to spread about these demons known as “vampiri.” They were demons that survived by drinking the blood of the living. 

 

“Please, I promise I'll leave, spare my life.” The vampiro pleaded, but the hunter wasted no time in taking the stake he held so firmly in his grip and digging it into his heart.

“Scum like you don't deserve to live...” The hunter growled into the vampiro’s ear before pulling the stake out. 

The Hunter had a method when killing these creatures. He'd stake them, rip the head off, then burn the body and head separately. That's exactly what he did with this one. He held the vampiro’s head back, and used his silver machete to cut his head off. Once he'd taken care of the separation, the hunter lit a match and tossed it onto the body of the vampiro, watching as the flames danced around the body. He wiped his stake off and stuck it back into it's holster, before turning his back to the fire. 

This is how he'd slain all the vampiri he'd encountered. It was routine for him. The tearing apart was just for his personal enjoyment. A past event made him enjoy this so much. The noise the blood made when it splattered on his leather boots got his adrenaline pumping, but ultimately the flesh ripping off the carcass was really what drove it home. 

As the flames dwindled down, Andrea started to walk off. His boots crunched against the ground with each trudge of his feet. The circumstances seemed all too familiar - from the smell of the fire to the sound of his boots. “Andrea!” No, this was not happening, Andrea thought. His mind always did this to him after a kill; it played tricks on him. He wildly turned his head back, expecting to see the man calling his name, but there was nothing. “Andrea, help me!” The voice came again, and he shut his eyes. Graphic images started to flash in his mind. Alessandro Nesta, an old lover, was being ripped to shreds right in front of him. Andrea was held back by two other vampiri, forced to watch Sandro perish. When he got free, his dirty, and bloody hands found themselves cupping Sandro’s face. Grimey tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched the life fade from his lover’s features. That was the day Andrea vowed to keep hunting; to avenge his lover’s death and exact his revenge on every vampiro living in Italy. 

It took Andrea a moment to regain his bearings and keep moving forward, and once he did, he continued to head towards his quaint home in the forest. It was cliche, but that was the way he liked it; he wasn’t much for human contact. Upon arriving at home, the first thing did was chuck his trenchcoat onto one of the chairs on the porch, and place the boots neatly next to the chair. When he turned to look to the woods surrounding the house, it was peaceful and silent. The only bit of solitude he had left. After a moment of admiring it, he went inside his home where he stripped the rest of his clothing off.

Just when he was about to go into the bathroom to get himself cleaned up, there was a knock on the door. Andrea grumbled, not really in the mood to deal with much at the moment. He opened the door, stark naked, mind you, and grumbled out a: “What do you want?” 

The man’s eyes grew wide at the naked man in front of him “U-Uhh... Hello, sir, I would like to ask you for some help... You are the infamous hunter, yes?” 

Andrea looked completely unimpressed, “Yes, but why should I help you exactly? Who are you?”

The man was obviously nervous and filled with anxiety. “Who I am is not of importance… Things are g-getting out of hand up in Turin. A clan is causing panic throughout our streets, and we need help. No one else is willing.”

“Sorry, not interested. I don’t work for others.” Andrea went to shut the door, but-

“Wait! It’s Gianluigi Buffon’s clan! I’m sure you’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” The man quickly interjected, putting himself in the way of the door to keep it from shutting.

At the mention of the name, Andrea opened the door slowly again. “Yes, I have... Fine. I’ll take care of it, but no help. That means when I get into town, do not try and step in. Understand?” 

The man’s facial expression lit up with a glimmer of hope in it. “Of course. Thank you! Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this would help my people. We can set out in the morning!” With that, the man turned to part ways.

This was it. This was the moment that Andrea would take out the self proclaimed vampiro king Gigi Fucking Buffon.The man who was more than likely responsible for his lover’s death. And he would enjoy every moment of slaughtering the vampiro he had long since desired to get his hands on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was written by Josh! Next chapter will be Zak, then Josh, and so on.


	3. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main group gathers to discuss their current predicament.

It didn't take Gigi very long to get cleaned up and dressed. Neither he nor Francesco said much of anything, either. The younger man realized the severity of the situation judging by Gigi's mannerisms. He was quiet, brows furrowed, forehead creased, lips pursed… He could practically check each off one by one as he studied the features of his lover while he dressed. And while Gigi dressed, the younger vampiro was lounging about on the bed in the soft silk sheets, one arm folded behind his head. He was almost tempting him to get back into bed with him without so many words, but he knew it was a hopeless cause. 

“Gigi, caro, don't you think you might be worrying over this a bit too much?” He remarked, quirking a brow as he did so. That got the elder vampiro's attention rather quickly, so he was quick to continue and explain his train of thought. “Haven't you— … er, we… fought off hunters of all kinds before? Why's this one any different, let alone worth passing up on sex?” 

Gianluigi scoffed, pulling his shirt on again. He let it hang loosely as he spoke, though, gesturing with his hands rather than buttoning it up. “See, you wouldn't understand… You've not been with us for very long.” He began, watching the other man with a near threatening gaze. “You haven't lived long enough to understand Andrea Pirlo and the trail of carnage he's left behind in every city he's passed through. He's a ridiculously powerful hunter, from what I hear. He's taken down some of the best of us… So, excuse me for looking out for my clan.” He growled the last bit out between gritted teeth, making his way to the side of the bed as he did so. He gripped Francesco's chin, jerking his head toward him roughly, — which got a little grunt out of Francesco — eyes narrowing. “And, last I remember… When we're not playing, who do you listen to? Me. Don't question any decision I make, little one… There will be consequences.” And, after planting a brief kiss on those soft lips of the younger vampiro’s, Gigi was headed out of the room. 

He stepped out and shut the door behind him, blue eyes immediately finding Chiello standing just to the right of the doorframe. He was resting against the wall, and his gaze was focused on the ground until he heard Gigi come out. When he did hear his leader reappear, he lifted his gaze, soft brown eyes immediately meeting the other’s. They both had the near exact same look of concern upon their features due to the situation they'd be walking into soon, but Gigi's only lasted a split second. Instead, the look of concern became more of a confident look that was borderline cocky, and it remained as he headed down the main staircase, footsteps quiet as he was barefoot and the floor was carpeted.

“Is everyone already in the lounge, Giorgio?” The elder Italian asked, tossing a glance toward him over his shoulder, before looking forward again. As he rounded the corner leading to the lounge area, he added. “We can't afford to waste any time.”

“They're all waiting on you.” He responded, following close behind Gigi. He wasn't letting his concern show through anymore, entrusting the man before him with the safety of the group. As always. And he hadn't failed them up until now, so there was no reason to doubt him. 

The answer was confirmed as Gigi pushed open the heavy oak doors to the lounge area, and was met with the group of men who were waiting on him. The Italians — Leonardo Bonucci, Andrea Barzagli and Claudio Marchisio — had claimed the sofa, while Miralem Pjanic and Mario Mandzukic stood behind them. Alex Sandro sat on the opposite couch with Dani Alves at his side, and behind the Brazilians stood the two Argentines, Paulo Dybala and Gonzalo Higuain. This was their main group of eleven men including Gigi; the group who led the clan and chose who was turned. 

When Gigi and Chiello entered the group looked up to their leader, expectantly, the chatter almost immediately quieting. Chiello shut the door while Gigi conducted a quick but silent headcount to make sure they weren't waiting on anybody else. He stood between the two sofas, facing his boys, while Chiello moved to stand alongside Pjanic and Mandzukic. 

“Ragazzi.” Gigi began, rubbing his hands for a moment. How was he to go about doing this? He could always come out with it, but he didn't need to cause alarm or panic. He needed to choose his words wisely. “We may have an issue.” He settled, blue eyes scanning over each man sitting or standing before him. “I've been told a local traveled to Milano to seek assistance from the Andrea Pirlo… He should be in Torino any day now.” 

Despite how calm he was about this, he could tell that his words did concern some of the vampiri before him. Marchisio went to speak first, but Gigi held up a hand to silence the clan's very own Principino before he could interject. 

“Now, I've been around long enough to know this man doesn't screw around… He's taken out some of the best of us, and he doesn't leave survivors. We've been lucky to avoid him thus far, but I knew this day would come sooner or later. When he arrives… We have to work quickly. Our objective must be to take him out before he takes us out — and he will do so if given the chance, which is precisely why we can't let him live.” Gigi's voice held it's usual authoritative tone, void of any fear or concern, himself. He had learned the hard way that this was the best way to keep everyone else calm. “Understood?” He asked. There were nods all around, and murmurs of approval. “Anybody have anything to say?” 

“Why don't we track him down and kill him before he even gets here?” Paulo spoke up first, raising a brow, being the ever cocky little fledgling he was. He was younger than the rest by far, but it changed nothing. 

“He'll be expecting that. A skilled hunter like himself isn't stupid enough to travel unarmed, let alone through the night.” Marchisio retorted, to which Paulo gave a disappointed little grumble. 

“How do we want to take him out? As quietly as possible?” Barzagli spoke up this time, thoughtfully stroking at his beard.

“Quietly would be ideal. Safer that way.” Gigi answered this time, but his gaze shifted as Mandzukic spoke immediately after. 

“Come on, a fight would be more entertaining.” There was no question that he was the definite warrior of the group, easily angered and always looking for a fight of some sort, however he was the exact opposite among clan members. He was like a lion — terrifying when provoked, but otherwise loyal and protective. 

“No. No full fledged fights unless we're left with no choice. I'm not sure I want any of us...” he gestured with his hands to the people in the room, “...going out and risking our own lives. We may be better off sending out some of the others. I don't intend on losing anybody in this room to this bastard hunter. Does everyone understand?” Again, there were nods and murmurs of agreement and understanding. Only one person failed to do so, and Gigi noticed, brows furrowing as his gaze focused on him. “Giorgio?”

Hearing his name, the vampiro looked up, noticing everyone watching him expectantly. “I disagree… At least on sending out the others to do it.” He explained, shrugging his shoulders as he moved to lower himself onto the armrest of the sofa the Italians were on. He was thankful that he was Gigi's second in command, as disagreeing with him tended to not go over so well, even if you were part of the main group. He, however, could get away with it. Especially because he was much smarter than he seemed to let on. “Most of them are newly turned. They won't stand a chance against a veteran hunter like Pirlo.” 

And, he did have a point. It made Gigi swear under his breath as he brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck in thought. “Alright…” He mumbled, letting out a huff. “Alright, here's what we'll do, then. Claudio, Leo, and Barzagli; when Pirlo gets to town, you'll keep an eye on him. Keep your distance. Whatever you do, do not draw attention to yourselves, and do not confront him. Find out what weapons he's got with him, what his plans are, and if he's got anyone helping him. We'll figure out how and when to strike once we've gathered that information. Nobody else is to do anything until we've got that information and we can plan our next steps, and nobody is to leave this hotel, aside from those three. Is everyone understood now?” This time, everyone agreed, including Giorgio. Gigi folded his arms over his chest as he spoke up again. “We'll gather everyone later tonight and fill them in on what's going on. We ought to avoid our… parties… For awhile. Just to be safe.” The last thing he needed was some drunken fledgling going out and drawing more attention to themselves now that Pirlo would be watching over them. 

A silence filled the room when Gigi had finished speaking. The group seemed to be expecting something more from their leader, but he had nothing else to say. “Now… If you'll excuse me,” he scratched at his bare chest for a moment, — he had yet to button up his shirt — “I have some… Business to attend to.” 

There were some snickers as the elder Italian left the room and shut the large oak doors behind him, should the others want to maintain their privacy. His love life was no secret to those around him. At least not to the main group. Most didn't know the extent of it, however this group of men did have a better perception of it, while Giorgio was fully aware of the story in its entirety. 

“He's a bottom bitch, isn't he? Tell me I'm not the only one who sees it.” Paulo remarked, a cheeky grin upon the Argentine's face. 

“Definitely. Probably to that fledgling he keeps disappearing with… What's the kid's name? Francesco?” Mandzukic spoke, returning the Argentine’s grin. 

Most of the boys were laughing it off, treating this as a joke. But, Giorgio knew it was actually the truth, so he remained silent while smirking to himself. Apparently he didn't go unnoticed for very long, however. 

“What're you grinning about over there, Chiello?” It was Pipita who had finally spoken up. “You know something we don't?”

Chiello lifted his head when he heard his name, but the smirk remained. He gave a lazy half shrug of his shoulders. “I've walked in on him doing practically everything you can think of… That should say enough.” Nearly everyone had erupted in a fit of laughter at that, which made the Italian's smirk broaden into a grin. “Alright, enough. All of you. Shut up before he hears you and kicks all of our asses. I think it's safe to say this meeting is over. Go back to what you were doing, and be ready to meet with the clan as a whole tonight.”


	4. The Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea journeys from Milan to Turin to face the infamous Buffon clan.

Crusted over hazel creaked open, Andrea wiped the sleep out of his eyes to look over at the grandfather clock. The time currently read about ten in the morning. He had about thirty minutes to get ready, and then head into Turin. It was going to be a long trek of a journey, but the only thought he had in his head was Gigi Buffon. It played over and over in his head like a song that manifested itself deep in the core of his brain. Not even a happy go lucky song however, a song that quickly took an evil turn. Which so perfectly matched Gigi’s very being for how Andrea saw him. 

“Honey, I know you can hear me up there, my angel. Today, I will get you the revenge you ultimately deserve.” He brought the rosary that hung around his neck and gave it a soft kiss. The rosary belonged to Sandro, it was the only thing Andrea had left of him. There was not a day that Andrea did not _ talk _ to Sandro. It was a shame, since their relationship was taboo, they were never able to get married, or even engaged at that.  

Andrea dragged his rugged body from the cocoon he created from tossing and turning. His bruise, and cut infested hand came up to run through his matted bed head hair. Andrea headed to the washroom to deal with his hygiene necessities. Advanced vampiro hunters need to treat themselves too. The hunter then dressed up in his usual hunter uniform.

He had a  _ hefty _ meal of a bagel with garlic cream cheese, and a tall glass of orange juice. When Andrea had a hunt like this it was almost impossible to get him to eat a proper meal at all. This was the most he has consumed in almost four days. He packed his things and went outside to grab his trench coat and his dirty leather boots. After everything was taken care of he headed out to his stables to prepare the matte black carriage he acquired recently from a town auction.

Andrea clicked his tongue to call the horses over “Darmien! Tilly! Come to papa. We have a long journey ahead of us.” The horses trotted over and nudged up against Andrea, which made him chuckle. The two horse were like his children. They belonged to both himself and Sandro which meant a whole lot to Andrea. Most people his height would probably have been terrified of the two horses towering over them like this, but Andrea knew they wouldn’t hurt their papa. He stroked the muzzles and cheeks of both horses affectionately, and set them up in the carriage, feeding them each a carrot, which they joyously consumed.

A few minutes after getting them all ready and strapped onto the carriage properly, they set off towards Turin. The mood had completely changed after some hours of riding; the once clear blue skies were now hazed over with dark storm clouds. Andrea was a little afraid that he would not get into Turin before the storm eventually hit. Luckily, the clouds started in the other direction than he was headed, allowing to escape the rain before it’d gotten too bad. 

Flakes of mud flicked off with each step the horses made.Andrea focused on the ground to make sure there were zero loose patches for his horses to slip, or get stuck. The change of weather was so abrupt, the sun beat down on his face, and made Tilly and Darmien slow down. Andrea’s hand went up to guard the sun from his face so he could see, brows furrowing and forehead creasing against the sunlight that slipped between his fingers. Darmien was growing exhausted, showing just how reckless he was becoming with a few restless movements.

“Darmien, my sweet, you have to wait for me to grab the canteen” 

Andrea mumbled, as he made his way from the carriage. He went over to the horses and stroked under Darmien’s chin, then down the side of  his neck, and through his mane gently. As Andrea held the canteen out and tipped it so the horse could drink, he admired them both. He shifted the canteen over to Tilly so she could have her own turn to drink, as Darmien usually had a tendency on hogging the water.  As she drank, he showed her the same affection he showed Darmien, stroking over her cheek, neck, and through her mane ever so tenderly. After Andrea made sure they got enough water, and were properly shown love and affection he opened up the carriage door to lay down on the carriage seats so  his darling horses could have a much needed break from the what it seems like never ending journey. 

After a couple of  hours napping Andrea jolted awake. He blinked his eyes a few times and smiled when he realized that both Tilly and Darmien’s tails were moving back and forth in unison. 

“My darlings, are we ready to start our journey back up just like before?” 

Both horses whinnied in response to Andrea’s words. With that Andrea shut the door and they were right back on the trail once again. A few more hours passed, and they were nearing the completion of their journey. On the outskirts of Turin, Andrea had his horses stop once again to take another drink from the canteen that slung around his torso. Finally, reaching the main gates of the town, eyes were instantly on Andrea. The tiniest of chit chat made its way to Andrea’s ears, however this was very  typical wherever he went; people talked about him and stared. That man that asked him to take this journey bounded up towards him with a smile.

“Amazing, You actually made it!” He sounded almost relieved. 

“Of course. I’m a man of my word.” Andrea remarked, glancing down to the man standing off to the side of the carriage. 

“I can show you to where you’ll be staying, if you’d like.” The man suggested, gesturing to the road before him.

Andrea nodded, and shifted over to his left so that the man could join him in the carriage and guide him along. The man did just that, pointing Andrea in the direction of a rather large looking hotel, however it seemed a little worse for wear - likely due to the clan of vampiri driving everyone away from Turin. The townsperson showed him to the stables where he could leave his horses, then walked him up to the hotel. They spoke to the hotel owner who stood at the front desk for a few moments, before Andrea was given his key, and made his way up to his room. The man still followed behind him, almost as though he were some sort of lost puppy, often trying to get a word in, as though he didn’t seem to notice Andrea wasn’t much of a talker. 

Upon getting to the room, Andrea put his key in the door, however turned to face the townsperson behind him, before he opened the door. 

“In the evening, I’ll go about examining the town. Start gathering some information on this clan. But, I won’t need your assistance any longer…” Andrea found himself trailing off, as he didn’t actually know the man’s name, and didn’t know how to refer to him. 

He realized this, and quickly spoke up, almost too eagerly. “Matteo Rossi.” He extended a hand to the hunter. 

“Rossi.” Andrea repeated, finishing what he was saying earlier. “I’ll find you should I need anything.”

The man nodded, seeming rather disheartened to hear that Pirlo was serious about not wanting any help with this. He was hoping the hunter would change his mind upon realizing just how distraught this town was; how these vampiri had left everything in ruins. But he didn’t seem phased in the slightest. He didn’t so much as blink an eye. 

“In the meantime, where can I get something to eat?” The hunter added, glancing to the man before him, before turning back to the door. 

Rossi told him the name of the nearest bar of sorts, and even went on to give him some directions, but Andrea had tuned him out upon hearing the name. He didn’t need anymore information than that. He dismissed Rossi again, before disappearing into the hotel room, shutting, and locking the door behind him - the cheap lock on a wooden door that was cheaper yet surely didn’t stand a chance against any vampiri that came knocking, but it was at least enough to keep out the unwanted townsperson. 

The room looked as to be expected judging by the exterior of the hotel. It was rather bland, the wallpaper was peeling off the walls in some places, and the furniture was dusty and damaged in a few places. Luckily, Andrea wasn’t here for the interior decor. He planned on simply spending a few nights, taking out the clan, then heading back to Milano - no other clan had given him trouble, nor would this one, even if it  _ was _ Gianluigi Buffon’s clan. 

He dropped his bags of weapons and some spare clothing by the night table, before heading out to the bar Rossi had mentioned to him, without so much as another look over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long hiatus... We're back!!


End file.
